Harry Potter & The Battle for Hogwarts
by Dragmaster
Summary: It's Harry's final year, and everything is coming to a climax! PLEASE read and review!
1. Family Ties

Chapter One ****

Chapter One

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Family Ties

"The Death Eaters are on the march Wormtail," said a cold voice, which belonged to a man sitting in front of a flickering fire.

"Indeed my Lord?" replied a squeaky voice that belonged to another man, who was standing beside the old leather chair.

"Yes Wormtail. They are at this very moment, gathering atop Stoatshead Hill, near Ottery St Catchpole."

"Why there my Lord?"

"There are very few wizards in that area. Only four families of wizards and witches live nearby. However, I have instructed the Death Eaters, led by Lucius Malfoy, to be as stealthy as possible and not to attract any unnecessary attention. I believe they are capable of meeting without being-"

"But my Lord…"

"You foresee a problem with this plan?" Voldemort said, raising his voice, "This plan crafted by myself, Lord Voldemort! The greatest sorcerer of them all?"

"I don't mean to be out of place my Lord, but…" Wormtail paused, whimpering and shaking slightly, "the Weasley family lives in Ottery St Catchpole."

Voldemort paused for a moment, considering this piece of information offered by Wormtail, apparently considering its worth and usefulness.

"I see what you are thinking Wormtail. Yes, Voldemort can see what you are thinking. One of the Weasley family, one Ron Weasley, is Harry's best friend is he not?" 

"Yes he is master," replied Wormtail.

"That is of little consequence," said Voldemort firmly, "I will not be visiting Stoatshead Hill, and so Harry Potter will not sense the Death Eaters presence."

"O-of course my lord. I was stupid to ever question you my lord," said Wormtail, still shaking and whimpering.

Wormtail remained silent for a few moments, but then seemed to pluck up the courage to ask Voldemort a question.

"My lord, if I may be so bold as to ask… Why will you not be visiting Stoatshead Hill?"

"I have left Lucius Malfoy in charge Wormtail. He is more than capable of completing my orders. Also, I have… other business to attend to.

Voldemort sat down in front of the fire, on an old chair with leather coverings. The room, which Voldemort and Wormtail were in, was part of the Riddle House. The Riddle House was an old manor, and was the finest house for miles of open countryside. The Riddle family had not lived there for years, but people still called it the Riddle House because of the strange events that had transpired there.

One evening, the made had found all three Riddles dead, with their eyes half-shut, and their mouths open. Frank Bryce was arrested for the murder, but was never convicted. The true murder, was a young man who called himself Lord Voldemort. Then, only last year, Frank himself had disappeared, and a flurry of rumour not seen since the night the Riddles died was roused. 

In actual fact, Frank had been dead for quite some time, at the hands of Lord Voldemort, before anyone noticed he was gone. It was over four months after his death that his disappearance was at last realised. Many members of the village had noticed that he no longer chased away children who vandalised the Riddle House, but everyone thought that he had just given up, or that his bad legged had finally disabled him and prevented him from running. No one cared however, because nobody really liked Frank.

The night that Frank's disappearance was first noticed, The Hanged Man was more crowded than it had been in anyone's memory, and louder than it had been for fifty years. Many people came to have a drink, enough in fact to send the landlord on a short Caribbean holiday, but as usual, the loudest and most insistent was old Dot. Dot had been living in Little Hangleton for over seventy years, and had been just as loud and obnoxious fifty years ago when the Riddles died.

"Always 'ad nasty air about 'im, old Frank did," Dot would tell anyone who would listen, "been like that ever since he came back from the war. As you'll know, everyone thinks he killed the Riddles, and there's no doubt in my mind that he did it," said Dot, as if to show without a doubt that whatever she said was unquestionably true. "I reckon he did a run for it, all the pressure got too much for 'im, seein' as how we know it was 'im that killed 'em."

Dot went on in this air for some time, as everyone listened with rapt attention. Within half an hour, everyone in town was as knowledgeable about everything that had happened as old Dot, and also believed that Frank had run off to find another place to live.

Midway through Dot's recital of the story to a large group of teenagers, her seventh telling, an old man wearing a black cloak grunted in annoyance as she reached the murder of the Riddles, and how she was positive that Frank was guilty. Everyone listening to her turned to stare at this old man, who was easily as old as Dot, and Dot thrust her nose in the air at the sight of this decrepit old man.

"Do you have a problem sir?" said Dot, as if talking to an upstart child, and not an equal.

"I merely have, a… a difference of opinion," he said in a superior attitude to rival Dot's.

"Who are you to dispute these accepted facts?" retorted Dot.

"You wish to know my name?" replied the old man, after several seconds of thinking.

"I, and everyone else present," said Dot, with a quick glance at her audience, still listening in silence, "would indeed like to know your name."

"My name, my dodder old dear," said the old man in a deeply sarcastic bow, "is Marvolo Slytherin."

Everyone remained silent, completely nonplussed, but after several seconds, Dot tutted loudly.

"You have something to say Dot?" asked Marvolo, still with a look of slight disgust on his face.

"You were Hannah's father where you not? You know, Tom Riddles mistress?"

"I was indeed Hannah's father, but she was no mistress of Tom's."

"I beg to differ," said Dot, her nose once again high in the air, "they had a relationship of sorts, but when your daughter got pregnant, Tom left her."

"That was indeed the time, but not the reason. I do not, however, deny that he left her," replied Marvolo, "but it was the biggest mistake he ever made."

"You seem to be hiding information that is unknown to the rest of us 

Mr. Slytherin," said Dot, in a would-be superior tone, every face in the inn now alive with interest, "perhaps concerning the death of the Riddles. Would you care to share it with the rest of us?"

"Indeed, I believe that fifty years is long enough for you to wait. It is my privilege," said Marvolo, bowing elaborately with much waving of his hands, " The true murderer of the Riddles and Frank Bryce, is my grandson. My grandson, the greatest dark sorcerer of them all, Lord Voldemort."

After several seconds of shocked silence, several people started chuckling quietly and whispering, obviously thinking that Marvolo was quite insane. Then Dot felt that she should voice everyone's opinion.

"I do believe you are quite insane, Marvolo. Lord did you say? Quite mad. Really… I mean to say-"

"Oh shut up you old fool!" interrupted Marvolo, "I grow tired of your incessant nattering."

Marvolo quickly drew a thin piece of wood from his long sweeping cloak, pointed it at Dot, and with a flash of green light, she crumpled to the floor. Several people screamed, and a few ran for the exits, but before anyone could do anything to stop him, he had disappeared.


	2. Unexpected Tidings

Chapter Two ****

Chapter Two

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Unexpected Tidings

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Go away, thought Harry groggily, burying his face in his pillow.

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Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Go away!" said Harry, out-loud this time.

However, the person who was tapping was obviously not listening to him, and continued tapping. Harry looked up, and saw Hedwig and three other owls squashed onto his bedroom windowsill.

He hurried over to the window and hastily opened it, allowing all four owls to land with a soft sort of flump on his bed. One of the owls was hooting madly, and Harry new it must be Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon. The other three owls looked indignantly at it, as if disgusted by its actions, with their beaks raised in the air, looking in the other direction.

Harry opened Ron's first, more to get rid of Pigwidgeon and stop the hooting than anything else, and covered Pigwidgeon in one of Dudleys old jumpers. Harry then opened Ron's letter as Pigwidgeon's hooting began to die down.

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Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! How are you Harry? Mum bought me a new broomstick from Diagon Alley, since my old one got smashed last year by that Slytherin beater, Rockford. It's a Golden Dart, not quite as fast as yours but it's supposed to be the most manoeuvrable broomstick in the world! 'Course she expects me to pay her back. Should have paid her by some time in my early 20's.

Harry felt a broad grin break out on his face. Last year, Ron had been selected to play as a beater for the Gryffindor quidditch team, to replace one of his brothers, Fred, who had left the previous year.

__

Hermione wrote last week to say that she had been made Head Girl, but she'll probably tell you herself. She sounded ecstatic on the fellytone.

Harry smiled again, Ron, who came from a family of wizards, had rarely used a telephone before, and still couldn't say the word correctly.

__

Honestly, the way she was going on… you'd think she'd just been made Supreme Ruler of the Universe.

Anyway, my parents have said its okay for you to come round for the rest of the summer, so could you please write back to say whether or not the muggles will let you. If they do, Fred and George and me will come and get you on our broomsticks. If they don't, Fred George and me will break out the broomsticks any way and come and get you without the muggles knowing.

Don't let the muggles get you down!

Ron

****

P.S. I hope you like your present, we bought it at 'Weasleys Wizard Wheezes', 

you know, Fred and George's joke shop.

Harry's eyes darted to the package that Pigwidgeon had brought, and he stared at it apprehensively. Fred and George had been the worst pair of troublemakers Harry had ever met, and after leaving Hogwarts, it had not been matured out of them. Both the twins still enjoyed making as much noise and general mayhem as possible. He remembered only too well the ton-tongue toffee Fred had given Dudley… Uncle Vernon still raved about it.

__

Insane, he would say, _I'm never having one in the house again! _he would shout whenever Harry walked in to he room. He would continue in this air for some time, pointing out such things as the ridiculous clothes wizards wore, or the fact that they were all dangerous lunatics.

Harry's uncle, Sirius Black, was indeed a convicted murderer, and Harry used this to threaten the Dursley's, as it was only their fear of waking up as bats that made them treat him like a human being. Harry had conveniently forgotten to mention the fact that Sirius was innocent.

He then opened Ron's present, which contained Mrs Weasleys usual supply of fudge, a card, and a small metallic box that seemed to be jumping about of its own accord.

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Harry, this is Fred and George's latest invention, the jumper ball. It's supposed to be the world's bounciest bouncyball. Be careful where you use it though, because it's very_ difficult to stop. There are three of them in that box._

Ron

Harry considered opening the box, but decided against it, because of the havoc Ron had warned it would cause if he let one of them loose, and the thought of the many hours Uncle Vernon would spend raving at him.

Harry now turned to Hermione's owl, Jeshwina, and removed the letter from her leg. She ruffled her feathers, and with an elaborate wave of her wings, took off out the open window.

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Dear Harry,

Guess what? I've been made Head Girl! I'm so excited, I can't wait! All that responsibility and status, it's just so exciting! I wonder who the new Head Boy is going to be.

Anyway, Happy Birthday Harry! I hope you like your present. I bought it in Diagon Alley, and you should find it quite amusing.

See you on the Hogwarts Express!

Hermione

Harry now dug into the package, and found a leather bag containing what appeared to be apples. Harry was lost in thoughts of what could possibly be useful about apples, when he noticed a small piece of paper attached to the string hold the bag shut.

**__**

DungApples

Trick your friends with these Dungbombs disguised as Apples.

See the havoc it'll cause when they try to eat one!

A guaranteed chuckle from onlookers.

© Weasleys Wizard Wheezes

"Cool!" said Harry, as he put the bag down beside his jumper balls.

He then relieved the next owl of its load, which was sealed with the Hogwarts crest. Harry ripped it open, and found his list of books, along with a letter from Hagrid.

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Hello Harry!

Hope you like the rock cakes! Hope to see you soon!

Hagrid

P.S. Got something very special lined up for you in Care of Magical Creatures.

Harry couldn't help but feel a little worried, because Hagrid's idea of special was often everybody else's idea of horribly terrifying and gruesome. His mind wandered to the Blast-Ended-Skrewts Hagrid had bred in Harry's fourth year.

Harry, who had far too much experience of Hagrid's cooking to eat the rock cakes immediately, laid the cakes to one side and opened Hedwig's package, which had been weighing her down.

Inside the package, Harry found a chocolate cake, two birthday cards, and two letters, one from Sirius Black, and one from Remus Lupin.

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I wonder what Sirius has got to say? Thought Harry eagerly.

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Dear Harry

Happy 17th Birthday!

I got the cake at a muggle shop, so I hope its up to scratch. I've got you a present as well, a miniature model of the galaxy that Remus bought for me in Diagon Alley, which should mean Astronomy lessons will be much easier.

Also, you may be seeing a bit more of me this year, as well as Remus. Dumbledore's been kind enough to use a fidelius charm, so no one but him and everyone in our circle will know where I am.

See you soon!

Sirius

P.S. One of the most famous troll leaders was Hungth the Hungry.

Harry had been set an essay for his History of Magic homework over the holidays, and it was all about the troll attacks on wizards in the 13th Century. He had been at a loss as to the names of the leaders, so he asked Sirius for some help.

"Thanks Sirius!" said Harry, making a mental note about Hungth the Hungry.

Harry turned then to Remus' letter, which was a bit shorter than Sirius'.

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Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday Harry!

I'd write more, but we're understandably busy at the moment. There are rumours of large numbers of Death Eaters gathering somewhere, but they may be unfounded.

You'll probably be seeing a lot more of me this year, as our group of Voldemort fighters, the Order of the Phoenix, are setting up base at Hogwarts.

Brilliant! Thought Harry, he hadn't seen Remus Lupin for four years.

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We won't be hiding Sirius anymore, you'll be pleased to know, because Dumbledore feels enough people are ready to believe he is innocent.

Anyway, goodbye Harry, and see you at Hogwarts.

Remus

Feeling elated at the thought of Sirius always being close by, Harry folded up Remus' letter and had a look at the remaining contents of the Hogwarts package.

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HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards, Chf. Dark Detector)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been appointed Head Boy. Your duties will be wide and varied, so you will need to be informed of them. After the sorting ceremony and the feast, please report to Professor Dumbledore's study immediately.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonnagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry sat there on his bed dumbstruck, staring at the first line of the letter. _Me? Head Boy?_ Thought Harry, staring blankly at the letter, but not really seeing it at all. He repeated his own words over and over in his head, and it took him several minutes to recover from the shock. 

Once he had fully overcome the numbness in his fingers, he picked up a quill and began drafting three letters to Ron, Hermione, Sirius and Remus. Harry would have written to Hagrid, but he would probably know already. He started with Ron's letter, still not fully recovered from the shock.

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Dear Ron,

Hi! It's Harry. I've just read your letter, and great news about the broomstick! I'll ask the Dursley's about coming over, but they'll probably say yes if I mention Sirius.

You'll never guess what though, I've been made Head Boy, and its come as a real shock! Just hope I can manage it, 'cause there'll probably be a ton of extra work to do. Hermione'll probably want to do it all though.

Anyway, I'll finish this off quickly because Pigwidgeon won't shut up!

See you soon!

Harry

Harry sealed the envelope and with great difficulty, attached it to Pigwidgeon's leg. As Pigwidgeon flew off into the distance, Harry started to write the remaining letters to Hermione and Sirius & Remus.

***

Once Harry had finished writing the two letters, and sent them off with their respective owls, he headed down to breakfast with the Dursleys.

As Harry walked into the kitchen of number four Privet Drive, Uncle Vernon gave a small grunt, Harry supposed this meant good morning. He sat down at the small square table in the middle of the kitchen floor, and waited for Aunt Petunia to serve up breakfast.

She gave both Harry and Uncle Vernon a plateful of bacon and eggs, while she gave Dudley a plate of carrots and celery. Dudley gave a very quiet snort of disgust, so as not to let Aunt Petunia hear it. Dudley had been on a diet for three years straight, and hadn't lost a pound. The situation had now grown so serious that he found it hard to walk for prolonged periods of time.

As he and Uncle Vernon worked through their breakfasts, Harry remembered the fact that Ron had asked him to come over.

"Err… Uncle Vernon?" said Harry, in a would-be casual voice.

"What?" he replied shortly.

"My friend Ron wants to know if I can go to his house for the rest of the summer," said Harry, as Uncle Vernon gave him a penetrating stare, you know Ron, my friend from Hog-"

"Stop!" yelled Uncle Vernon, a slight note of panic in his voice. Uncle Vernon, who despised magic, never tolerated the mention of anything to do with it in his house. "Why should I let you go?"

Harry stopped to think for a moment. "My godfather might be able to think of a reason," said Harry, on a sudden inspiration.

Uncle Vernon was about to say something, but seemed to think better of it, and closed his mouth. Harry could clearly see a vein throbbing in his uncle's temple.

If Uncle Vernon let Harry go, that would make him happy, and he didn't want that. Yet, if he didn't let him go, Sirius would no he was being mistreated, and come to sort it out. This was a worst case scenario, because aside from Sirius being a convicted murderer, on his last meeting with a wizard, Uncle Vernon had had his living room blasted apart. However, if Uncle Vernon let Harry go, it would get rid of him three weeks early. 

Uncle Vernon seemed to come to his conclusion, and turned to Harry.

"You may go," he said, "but they are _not_ coming to collect you through my fireplace, is that understood."

"Sure," said Harry, a wide grin on his face, "I'll go and tell him right now!"

Harry then raced up the stairs and quickly whipped out a quill and some parchment.

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Dear Ron,

The Dursleys have said I can come, pick me up whenever, I'm not going anywhere, and the Dursleys don't care, but as soon as possible would be nice.

See you soon,

Harry

Feeling very pleased with himself, Harry opened his suitcase and started packing his Hogwarts things for the coming year.


	3. The Journey Back to Ottery St. Catchpole

Chapter Three ****

Chapter Three

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The Journey Back to Ottery St. Catchpole

It was lucky that Harry had packed immediately, because the Weasley's came the very next day. They had written back as soon as they got the letter to say that they would arrive at around five o'clock in the afternoon.

At five minutes to five, Harry was sitting in the living room, watching Dudley's favourite show, 'The Cyborg Annihilators.' Dudley, who was looking deflated and sombre, was apprehensively watching the front door. This was perfectly understandable, because Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had once given him a tail, and Fred Weasley, Ron's brother, had made his tongue grow to four feet long three years ago.

Then, just as Dudley began to relax and settle down, the doorbell rang, and Harry jumped to his feet and ran to the door. He opened the door, but found the path empty. Just as he was about to close the door, three different sets of feet walked in the door, and two of the voices muttered-

"Visio!"

Before Harry's eyes his friend Ron Weasley, and his two brothers, Fred and George, all clutching broomsticks, appeared out of thin air.

"Hey Harry!" said Ron.

"How are you doing Harry?" said Fred and George simultaneously, with a quick evil glance at Dudley, whose fat bottom could now be seen disappearing into the kitchen.

"Head Boy eh?" said Ron, "bet they're really proud," he continued, with a quick glance towards the kitchen.

"Oh yeah, ecstatic," said Harry, grinning from ear to ear, "I'll go and get my stuff."

With that, Harry jogged into the hall, and leapt up the stairs, three at a time. He returned three minutes later, carrying his suitcase and clutching his Firebolt.

"Ready then Harry?" said Ron, "Remember the invisio charm?"

"Yep, but my wand got smashed remember?" replied Harry.

"Doesn't matter," said Ron, "Fred and George have to do it. We're still underage."

"Oh yeah," replied Harry, feeling a bit stupid, "better say goodbye to the Dursleys," he continued, turning towards the kitchen, "See you Dudley," he said, as he spotted Dudley's head poking around the corner.

"Time to go Harry," said George.

"Get ready," said Fred.

Before Harry could say or do anything else, Fred and George had disappeared, and moments later, Harry felt a warm tingling sensation which meant he had disappeared, and he could see Fred and George again. Harry would have found this strange, but he knew full well that all people under the influence of the invisio charm could see each other.

"Lets get going then," said Ron.

"Someone needs to bewitch my suitcase first," Harry said, with a quick glance at Fred and George.

"Oh, right… there you go, light as a feather," muttered George as he bewitched Harry's suitcase.

"Right then, let's go," said Fred, and all four of them kicked off into the sky.

"Which way then?" asked Ron.

"I've got you covered," replied George, reaching for his wand, "Point me!"

George's wand spun round and pointed north. He looked at George, who seemed to know what he was thinking.

"Ottery St. Catchpole is north-east of here."

"Right then," said Harry, "lets go that way." Harry pointed northeast with his left forefinger.

At last, after over a month away from the wizarding world, Harry was back where he belonged. The wind rustling in his hair, his jacket billowing in the wind, high above the ground, it was a breathtaking experience. He was viewing the muggle world as he had never seen it before.

Miles and miles of hundreds of rooftops, all belonging to factories, businesses, or homes, and people whom Harry could barely see, down on the ground, going about their daily business, blissfully unaware that four wizards were flying overhead at that very moment. There was almost endless countryside, with cattle grazing peacefully down on the ground, chewing away at the grass.

Harry then went up, and flew high above the clouds, it was a beautiful sight. Wisps of cloud of every type imaginable, forming indescribably brilliant shapes of all sizes and descriptions. Moments later, Ron flew up as well, an awing look on his face.

"Wow," he said, "haven't seen the clouds like this since our second year."

In Harry and Ron's second year at Hogwarts, the barrier onto platform nine and three quarters had been blocked by a House-Elf named Dobby. To get to Hogwarts, Harry and Ron had stolen Mr. Weasleys flying car, flying above the clouds to avoid being seen by muggles.

Once the awesome effect of the clouds had worn off, and when they were starting to get very hot, Harry and Ron swooped down again to view the earth once more.

Fred and George were still flying along beneath them at full speed on their Nimbus 2002's, bought with the phenomenal profits their business brought in, talking animatedly about new ideas for items to sell in their joke shop.

After several minutes of listening in on the conversation, and learning a great deal about how to design and build an effective dungbomb, successfully produce a canary cream, and temporarily transfigure a biting teacup into a salad bowl, Harry turned to Ron.

"How long did it take you to get to Privet Drive Ron?" asked Harry, whilst looking at a bald man in rubber gloves trying to pile up fertiliser without a shovel.

"Oh, about two hours, give or take about ten minutes or so, if we go in a straight line and don't veer off course," he replied, now gazing intently at a muggle working on their car.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry and Ron spent the next hour pointing out things muggles were doing on the ground that looked a little odd. Among the most laughter inducing was a woman milking a cow that kept trying to kick her, a muggle postman being attacked by a particularly vicious looking German shepherd, and a very large man who had just walked into a parked car.

Then, about a quarter of an hour away from Ottery St. Catchpole, Harry, Ron, Fred and George caught sight of Stoatshead Hill, a landmark that lay a little way away from the village.

"Nearly there," said Fred, drawing his attention away from a muggle woman who had just tripped over in the mud, "not too far to go now."

However, as the four of them approached Stoatshead Hill, a mass of black came into view. Harry had a perplexed look on his face, and judging by the similar look on the others faces, they had noticed the strange amount of black too.

"What the…" whispered George

Harry made a gesture down towards the forest area surrounding the hilltop, and they all silently nodded in agreement.

Harry, Ron, Fred and George glided silently down, landing quietly about twenty metres away from the clearing. As they crept closer they could clearly see at least a hundred men, hooded and masked in long sweeping cloaks, all camped out in the large clearing.

"Oh my…" muttered Ron, edging closer to where the hooded figures were standing.

"They're Death Eaters!" said Fred, but a little too loudly.

The nearest Death Eater span round sharply, peering intently around where the four of them were, his eyes filled with suspicion.

"Oh dear," whispered Harry, and they all simultaneously started creeping back, away from the clearing.

But the Death Eater was coming still closer, pushing the branches aside as he went, and walking with great loping strides.

"He won't be able to see us though will he?" whispered Ron.

"Can't take that chance," replied Fred so quietly that Harry could barely hear him.

Then, the four of them dived behind a bush, when the Death Eater was mere feet away from them. Just when they thought they'd had it, and he came level with them, he muttered something to himself about getting his hearing checked, turned around and headed back to the clearing.

"That," whispered Ron, "was close."

"I suggest we leave," muttered George, and they turned around, Harry in the lead, and silently headed down the hill.

***

Harry, Ron, Fred and George all landed loudly on the driveway of the Burrow, not bothering to keep quiet. Harry would have taken a good look at Ron's home, but like the others, he was completely preoccupied by what he had just seen. What where the Death Eaters doing in such large numbers out on top of a hill? Why had they come to Ottery St Catchpole? All these questions raced through Harry's mind as he dismounted his Firebolt and followed Ron to the front door.

Using the Alohomora Charm, Ron sent the door flying open, and crashed into the Weasley's hallway. The four of them ran into the living room, where Arthur Weasley was sitting, reading an article in the Daily Prophet about recent muggle killings.

"Dad!" yelled all three Weasley's simultaneously.

Upon hearing the Weasley's shouts, Arthur Weasley leapt out of his chair in shock and span his head round in every direction, looking for where the voices had come from.

"Why can't he see us?" asked Ron.

"Because we're still invisible?" said Harry sarcastically.

"Oh yeah… Fred? George?" replied Ron.

Within seconds, all four of them had returned to full view, and Arthur Weasley realised where the voices had come from. Instantaneously, they all launched into telling him what had happened.

"On the hill…"

"Loads of people…"

"_Death Eaters_!"

"Loads of them…"

"All camped out…"

"_You-Know-Who_!"

The mention of Lord Voldemort seemed to jolt Mr. Weasley back to his senses.

"Boys, Boys! PLEASE! Calm down!" Mr. Weasley shouted, yelling himself hoarse over the voices of four people talking at once, "Now, Harry, what happened?"

So Harry started his own explanation, from when the three Weasley's had come to collect him. Mr. Weasley gasped when Harry came to the moment when they were almost caught by one of the Death Eaters.

"What did you think you were doing?" he said in a half astonished, half-frightened voice.

However, he allowed Harry to continue, and by the time Harry had finished, he stood in complete silence, staring at them with a vacant look on his face.

"Dad?" said Ron, sounding slightly worried.

Arthur Weasley suddenly came back to his senses, with a look on his face that suggested he was thinking hard about which question he should ask first.

"Wh… Where did this happen?" Mr. Weasley stammered.

"On Stoatshead Hill dad," said Ron, sounding thoroughly exasperated.

"Are you boys sure you saw this?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"Of course we are dad!" shouted Ron, "why would we make it up?"

As Mr. Weasley stared down at the floor, Harry was sure he knew what Mr. Weasley was thinking.

If Mr. Weasley did alert the Ministry, he may end up being the hero for catching all those, Death Eaters, but if he called them in and there wasn't anything there, he'd be the laughing stock of the ministry, and might even be sacked. He seemed very reluctant to take that risk on the information provided by three of his sons and one of their friends.

"We weren't imagining it Mr. Weasley," said Harry, trying to egg Mr. Weasley into a decision.

As Harry said this, a decision seemed to form in Mr. Weasley's head that showed on his face. He looked dead set and resolute.

"Right boys, I'm of to the ministry, I'll be back in a few minutes," said Mr. Weasley, picking up his wand. In seconds, he had disapparated, and all they could do was wait.

"Hope they're still there when we get back," said Fred, watching the Weasley family clock as the hand labelled Arthur switched from travelling to work.

"Yeah," replied George, "it'd be really embarrassing for dad if he got half the ministry up there for nothing."

"Don't say that," said Ron in an imploring voice, "you'll jinx it."

Within minutes Mr. Weasley had returned, and thirty members of the ministry apparated along with him in the back garden. These people included Amos Diggory, the late Cedric's father, Jonathan Faulkner, the Head of department for Magical Law-Enforcement, and Elliot Weaver, recently appointed Minister for Magic.

"Where are they then Arthur?" a matter of urgency sounding in Weaver's voice.

"Up on Stoatshead Hill," Mr. Weasley replied, pointing out over the hedge of his garden.

"Right then, lets go," suggested Faulkner.

"Err… Jonathan?" said Diggory.

"Yes Amos?"

"Err… I don't mean to be above my position, but why don't we just apparate on Stoatshead Hill?"

"Well, Amos, as you have obviously failed to observe, if we apparate on Stoatshead Hill, we may appear right in the middle of many dangerous men all armed with wands that can do quite serious damage."

"Oh yeah… sorry."

"Okay then, lets get going," said Weaver.

With a few nods of agreement from his colleagues, Weaver ran at a jog out through the front door, and set off at pace down the street, the other members of the ministry, and Harry, Ron, Fred and George in pursuit.

It took this large group of men about twenty minutes to reach the bottom of Stoatshead Hill, at which point they had a short rest to catch their breath before starting up the hill.

"Do you think they're still up there?" asked Fred, peering up the hill into the trees.

"Probably," replied George, "with all those tents up it didn't look too temporary did it?"

At that moment, out of the crowd came Percy, looking very serious and cautious, staring up at the hilltop.

"Hello Harry! How are you?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the forest at the top of the hill.

"I'm okay. How are you?"

"Oh, well, I don't know if Ron's told you, but I've recently been appointed Deputy Minister for Magic." At this point, a wide grin broke out on his face and he turned to Harry. "It's a new position of course. I'm there should anything happen to the Minister himself. These days such precautions seem all too necessary."

Percy turned back to the hill, and with a few words to his brothers walked over to the Minister and began talking to him, pointing up at the hill.

Once Percy and the Minister had finished, the order was given to start up the hill. It took another five minutes to reach the outskirts of the forest, and at this point, Weaver stopped everybody, and dropped his voice to a whisper. 

"We've got to proceed very quietly now, because nothing will be more valuable than the element of surprise."

Then they all crept into the forest, ducking in and out of the trees, until the front few reached the edge of the clearing. Everybody gradually reached the clearing, and it was Percy's voice that sounded.

"Err… Mr. Weaver Sir, there's… there's nothing here."

Every head in the crowd of ministry members, turned slowly around, and looked at Mr. Weasley, who was going as red as a beetroot, and then, even more slowly, they turned, and fixated on Harry, Ron, Fred, and George.


	4. Diagon Alley

Chapter Four ****

Chapter Four

__

Diagon Alley

It was an unprecedented disaster. As Mr. Weasley lay in his chair by the fireplace, staring vacantly down at the carpet, Harry couldn't help feeling guilty, and judging by the look on Ron's face, he felt the same way. Just then, Fred and George walked in chuckling; scrutinising a new idea for their shop, but with one look at their father, the laughter was silenced, and they hurried quickly through to the kitchen.

"Arthur, come on! You've been sitting in that chair for an hour! Get up and _do_ something!" groaned Mrs. Weasley as she came into the lounge and started dusting the mantelpiece.

"I'm as good as fired," Mr. Weasley sighed in reply, "I'll be sacked."

"Don't talk like that Arthur! They aren't going to fire you over a silly mistake like that. Besides, they need you more than ever at the ministry, what with all this extra security."

This was true. Not only had a Deputy Minister of Magic been appointed for a fallback plan, the Ministry had been seriously downsized to the most faithful of people, in an attempt to prevent any spy's working for Voldemort from getting their hands on any information. It had so far been relatively successful, but cracks were beginning to show. Many members of the ministry were suffering from stress and serious over-work.

"I suppose so…" he muttered.

"Oh Arthur! You've got to go in sometime!" she groaned, "It won't do you any good just sitting there." 

Mr. Weasley sighed again, and Mrs. Weasley gave up. She carried on into the hall to dust the ornaments on the table.

"She's right dad," said Ron, getting up off the floor, "it won't do you any good sitting there doing nothing."

"Oh, I know Ron," said Mr. Weasley, hoisting himself out of his chair, "but working up the courage to go into work is another thing entirely."

He strolled off into the kitchen looking surly, and started making a cup of tea.

Harry felt a strong surge of guilt from somewhere in his belly. It was because of him that Mr. Weasley was so upset. Maybe Mr. Weasley wasn't going to get fired, but Harry still felt awful. Ron seemed to read his mind.

"Look Harry, it wasn't your fault. We all saw those Death Eaters, we all know they were real, but what happened to them is anyone's guess."

Harry knew Ron was right, but he still felt bad, so he decided to go to bed early. He trudged upstairs and went into Ron's room. He slumped down on his sleeping bag and stared vacantly at the ceiling. About ten minutes later, Ron came upstairs, but Harry pretended to be asleep.

Ron also curled up on his bed, and within ten minutes, they were both snoring loudly.

***

"Wake up boys! Come on, get up boys! Rise and shine!" said Mrs. Weasley.

Harry gave an enormous groan as he sat up out of his sleeping bag, and blinked against the sun shining through the open window. Another huge groan from somewhere to his right signified that Ron had been woken up as well.

"Mum, why 'ave you woken us up? It's only s-s-seven o'clock!" yawned Ron indignantly.

"Because you want to get into Diagon Alley early," she replied, whipping Harry' sleeping bag away from under his feet, and dragging Ron out from underneath his bed sheets, "you know how crowded it is just before the start of the school year."

Ron gave a great sigh in reply, and walked over to the wardrobe to find something to wear, while Harry collected his clothes and headed off to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later both Harry and Ron were downstairs eating half a dozen slices of hurried toast.

"Your school lists are here. Harry, I took the liberty of getting yours out of your bag for you."

Harry forced down the remainder of his toast and unfolded the piece of paper that Mrs. Weasley had left on the table.

__

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Set Books:

__

All Seventh Year Students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 7) _by Miranda Goshawk_

An Advanced Guide to the History of Magic _by Ivan Droning_

The Expert's Guide to Transfiguration _by Maydo Clay_

The Final Guide to Herbs and Fungi _by Grassen Leef_

Rare Magical Creatures and Their Habitats _by Maurice Zoo_

Difficult Divination Techniques _by Trisha Voretold_

The Encyclopaedia of the Dark Arts _by Gareth Nox_

Self-Defensive Duelling _by William Wandla_

"Ron, what's the Duelling book for?" asked Harry, looking up from his booklist.

"Dunno, maybe it's a new class," replied Ron, "Mum? What time are we leaving?"

"_We_ aren't going anywhere. You two are going on your own, I've got far too much to do. You'll have to take Ginny with you, or else she won't have time to get her things. We've left it a bit late really, we've only got two more days till you leave."

"But mum! We don't want to take… Oh, hi Ginny."

Ginny Weasley had just walked in the kitchen door, and with a great _humph_, stormed out again.

"Oh, Ron… now look what you've done! Your taking Ginny whether you like it or not. Now go and get ready and say sorry to Ginny, I've got to find some Floo Powder."

So Harry and Ron went upstairs to put on their jackets and say sorry to Ginny. Five minutes later they were coming down the stairs again, followed by a slightly disgruntled Ginny.

"Now boys, I expect you back by six o'clock. Ron, if anything happens to Ginny, you will be in serious trouble. Now, there's some more Floo Powder in the Plant Pot on the mantelpiece, so get going before everyone else does. Shopping in Diagon Alley is much harder when you're surrounded by every other witch and wizard from up and down the country.

Harry went first. He collected a pinch of Floo Powder and threw it into the fire. The fire burned bright green, and Harry stepped in. A warm tingly sensation surged through him as he said:

"Diagon Alley!"

Harry felt himself being whipped from the fireplace at the Burrow and heading towards the fireplace of The Leaky Cauldron in London. The flames hit his face as he travelled ever upwards, and the soot was clouding his vision. He caught glimpses of other fireplaces; an old abandoned home, several kids playing in front of the fire, even an old woman on her rocking chair, before he finally reached The Leaky Cauldron.

Harry was thrust out of the fireplace at The Leaky Cauldron, just managing to keep his balance, and turned round to wait for Ron and Ginny. As he was wiping the soot off of his jeans, Ron appeared out of the fireplace. A few seconds later, Ginny was climbing out of the fireplace as well.

"Where shall we go first then?" asked Harry, looking around.

"How about Gringotts? We need to get our money before we can spend it," suggested Ron.

"Good point," said Harry, tapping the special brick in the wall, opening up an arch.

"It's right over on the other side of Diagon Alley so we might as well get going," piped up Ginny.

The three of them set off down the relatively empty street, passing by all the shops along the way; 'The Apothecary', 'Ollivanders', and even a shop that seemed to be giving advanced lessons in Dragon dissection.

Eventually they reached the marble steps of Gringotts, with two surly looking goblins guarding the door.

The three teenagers strolled into the impressive marble hallway, and were approached by another Goblin, looking equally surly and particularly disagreeable.

"Which vault?" the Goblin croaked at Harry.

"Er… Harry Potter please," said Harry, with a slight hesitation.

"Do you have the key?"

"Yes, right here," said Harry, handing over the bronze key.

The Goblin inspected the key closely, right down to the fine engravings on its handle, and held it up to the light, apparently attempting to see through it. The key seemed to pass the test, and was handed back to Harry.

"Spinclaw will take you down to your vault."

"Thank you," said Ron, as the Goblin left and Spinclaw approached.

Spinclaw looked decidedly more cheerful, and also appeared to be significantly younger than the small Goblin.

"Good morning sirs and madam. Please collect all your belongings and secure them properly. Those of you with weaker stomachs should inform me now so that I may provide you with a paper bag," said Spinclaw, wearing what seemed to be a smile, although it was hardly noticeable.

Harry, Ron and Ginny gave each other mildly curious looks, but followed Spinclaw into the dark underground torchlit passageway before them nevertheless. 

The passage way was almost completely different to the artfully crafted marble hallways they had just come from. The soil and the rock that formed the walls was not covered with anything, and looked as if huge shovels had crafted them many centuries ago.

Along the floor of the tunnel lay many lengths of rails, spawning off in every direction, some dropping slowly or rising steadily, and some plummeting into near vertical drops.

The three of them clambered into the cart at the start of the long line of railings, and stuffed their bags underneath the wooden plank seat.

Spinclaw hopped into his seat at the front of the cart, released the rusty iron handbrake, and they sped off immediately, careering down the tunnel at tremendous pace.

The cart raced down the tunnel, needing no intervention from Spinclaw whatsoever. Left it turned, right, right and left again. On one left turn Ginny almost lost a hairpin, and Ron nearly let go of his watch.

"Ron, why've you got your watch out?" asked Harry, with the wind blowing in his face.

"Trying to work out our speed. I'd say the new nimbus isn't this fast," replied Ron, tapping his watch to make sure it was working.

At long last, the cart came to a shuddering halt, and Spinclaw quickly shoved the key into the lock, turned it, and opened the door, revealing a large pile of gold that had been left to Harry by his parents.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at Ron and Ginny, who were waiting patiently. In previous years Harry might have felt awkward, but this year Harry was safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't be embarrassed when they reached the Weasley's vault.

Only a year ago, Mr Weasley had been given a big promotion, and was made the Head of the newly created Dark Arts Defence Department.

Harry swiftly retrieved all the money he needed, and slammed the door. Spinclaw leapt forward and locked it as Harry turned back to the cart. Harry hopped back into the cart, and was followed by Spinclaw.

"Any other customers?" he croaked as he laid his hand on the handbrake.

"Weasley's please," replied Ginny.

Spinclaw pushed the handbrake forward and off hey went again, hurtling downwards for what seemed like forever until they reached the Weasley's vault.

Ron handed Spinclaw the key, and the door was opened. He took out a small leather bag, gathered together a heap of gold galleons and put them in his bag.

"Right, we're done," said Ginny, raising her voice so Spinclaw could hear.

"Very good miss. Very well, off we go back to the surface," Spinclaw replied, and he pulled the handbrake back. The cart set off backwards, and all on its own, headed up to the marble hallway.

Within a few minutes, the three of them were out on the steps once more, blinking into the sun. 

"Well, lets get going then," said Ron, turning off down the gradually crowding street.

They stopped off first to buy parchment and some new quills. Harry couldn't stop himself from buying a quill with everlasting ink, and parchment that magically made itself longer and wider if you ran out of space.

Next, the trio went into Flourish and Blotts to buy their schoolbooks. As it turned out, their new Defence Against the Dark Arts book was almost the size of a paving slab, and nearly twice as thick. Along with all their other books, they were hard pressed to carry them around. In the end they had to convince the store manager to put charms on their books to make them feather light.

Ginny needed some new robes, so while she went into Madam Malkin's to pick up some new clothes, Ron and Harry went to Ollivanders. Harry's wand had been smashed to pieces at the end of last year while he was battling the dark wizard Braldemar, Lord Voldemort's right hand man. Harry brought the ceiling down on their heads, smashing his wand to pieces in the process.

Ollivander's shop was dark and musty, so dark in fact that Harry couldn't see the wall on the other side of the dark shop. Mr. Ollivander himself could just be made out staring into a mirror. His bright eyes glowed like discs in the dark of the shop, reflected in the mirror. 

Mr. Ollivander turned slowly to face Harry staring him up and down with a thoroughly calculating look, before he said, "Ah yes, Mr. Potter I was expecting you sometime soon. The circumstances of the destruction of your previous wand are quite famous in Diagon Alley, if not entirely consistent."

Harry blushed, not knowing quite what to say, luckily however Ollivander carried on for him. "As a matter of fact, I had one old warlock stroll in here raving about how Harry Potter had conjured a legion of centaurs to beat Braldemar to death."

Harry gave a short chuckle as Mr. Ollivander strolled behind the desk to fetch his tape measure. Once he stretched it out, it magically measured every dimension of his body, and Ollivander pulled several boxes out of the cupboard. He handed Harry each one in turn waiting for something to show that would point out the perfect wand for Harry.

"How much longer Harry?" droned Ron. It was now almost half an hour after they had entered the shop, and Ginny had come to sit beside Ron.

"I can't help it," shrugged Harry, "but there can't be many wands left to try."

Harry started to feel slightly anxious at his own comment. What if he couldn't find the right wand and didn't have one for the start of next year? What if he had to go through the entire year without a wand?

Mr. Ollivander returned from the back of the shop carry seven boxes with a wand in each.

"Always the tricky customer eh Mr. Potter?" said Mr. Ollivander. "This is my last batch, so if its not here, its not in my shop. There are several other wand makers I could suggest… but first we should try these."

These boxes looked like the dustiest of the lot. Each box was marked with a date, probably the date they were made. The top box was marked 1437.

"Your going to sell me a 500 year old wand?" asked Harry, a doubting look on his face.

"Indeed young Mr. Potter. Pegasus Ollivander, my great-great-great grand father, crafted these wands. He was the most skilled of all my predecessors. These, Mr. Potter, are probably the finest wands to be handled since his death."

Having been given his answer, Harry shrugged and took the first wand in his hand. Feeling no special tingle, he place back in its box, putting it on the pile of tried wands that was now in danger of blocking the door.

Having thrown three more wands in the pile, Harry picked up a golden, scarlet lined box, dusted it off and opened the lid. Hidden beneath two inches of woollen padding lay the most magnificent wand Harry had ever seen. It was a long sturdy oak wand, dyed scarlet, and decorated with intricate golden lines up and down its length. The lines were as fine as the pattern was complex, it was an awe-inspiring sight. This truly was a magnificent wand.

Harry carefully lifted it out of the box, and as he held it in his palm, felt an instant surge of power, as he brought it swishing down, stars radiated out from its point, illuminating the entire shop in a flurry of light.

A loud round of applause came from Mr. Ollivander as he hurried over to inspect the wand, "ah yes, a fine wand indeed ah ye… oh, oh my…" he said, looking completely thrown.

"What is it mister Ollivander," asked Ron, as he hurried over to have a look as well.

"Well it's… it's just so… well sufficed to say this is one of the most unique wands I have ever seen." He inspected the wand thoroughly, and his eyes opened even wider than they normally did, and his jaw dropped. He looked as if he had been caught completely off-guard. "Look there, in that space in the gold markings."

Harry took the wand back not knowing what to expected, and was stunned to see the words Godric Gryffindor, glowing red along the gap. Suddenly, the words faded away, and the wand returned to normal.

"What… why is that there?" mumbled Harry.

"I… I don't think it would be appropriate to discuss it here." He replied, stealing a glance at Ron and Ginny still standing there looking completely bewildered. "You should probably wait until you have the opportunity to speak to Albus Dumbldore about it."

"Okay," said Harry, only half listening, "I'll speak to Professor Dumbledore once school starts."

Harry pocketed the wand, and placed the gold galleons on the counter. Harry didn't care about the change, he just wanted to get out of that dark shop as fast as possible.

"Good, good. Now go on," said Mr. Ollivander, "let me clear up this mess we've made." 

Harry stumbled out the door, nearly tripping over several boxes, followed closely by Ginny and Ron, and the inescapable bombardment of questions, but quite frankly, Harry had no idea what to make of it all. He barely even noticed when Neville said hello from across the street.

"Harry, what was all that about?" asked Ron, looking thoroughly perplexed.

"Nothing… it was nothing… lets get back to your house Ron," replied Harry, a vacant look across his face as he pushed through the crowd.

The three of them hurried down the street, back towards The Leaky Cauldron, Ginny nearly dropping her bags as she bumped into people along the way. They entered the Leaky Cauldron, only to find a queue for the fire.

They dropped their bags and waited in line for use of the fire. Harry listened in as people were whisked away to places like "Whisky Waters" and "Glytheburg". There was even one old man who seemed intent on reaching Paddington Station through the fire.

As Harry neared the front of the queue, he heard many voices outside, gasping and screaming, as several people crowded through the magical entrance to The Leaky Cauldron.

He raced outside to see what was wrong, only to be greeted by a scene of chaos. People were racing off in every direction, screaming and shoving other people, running from the enormous group of Death Eaters headed in their direction.

Suddenly, before anyone knew what was going on, twelve Death Eaters had appeared behind the bar, and two appeared next to the door, blocking it completely.

Many people attempted to run for the exits, but it was clear that no one could escape, or stop the Death Eaters. It seemed at least two hundred had appeared out in the street.

Several people had already been frozen, and a few were under the body-bind curse. Harry tried to help, stopping several Death Eaters in their tracks, but he could see nothing could be done. There were just too many of them. He told Ron and Ginny they should get out while they could, and Harry threw some floo powder into the flames, telling the fire their destination. Just as one of the Death Eaters noticed them and prepared to curse them, the three leapt into the fire at the same time, and where whisked away back to the Burrow.

Mrs. Weasley appeared from out of the kitchen, and greeted them with a warm smile and a saucepan. "Hello you three, your back late, what took you so long?"

Ron, barely able to speak charged into the kitchen, and then proceeded to search every room for his father.

"Mum, where's dad? We need to talk to him," asked Ginny, in a panic.

"He's at work dear, why what's wrong?"

"Something happened at Diagon Alley, we need to tell him now!" replied Ginny, grabbing some floo powder out of the pot. "Ministry of Magic" said Harry, and the flame flashed green, illuminating the entire room.

Ron came rushing back into the living room, and he, Harry and Ginny all walked into the fire and were instantly transported to the Ministry of Magic.


End file.
